<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>i'm okay (trust me) by LilGreenMochi (AkiSutaHatter)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954050">i'm okay (trust me)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiSutaHatter/pseuds/LilGreenMochi'>LilGreenMochi (AkiSutaHatter)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Baking, Fluff, Gen, Virgil-centric, everyone loves virgil, just self indulgent fluff because i know the new episode is about to destroy me, pretentious prose because i'm just Like That, second cookies, they're all platonically best friends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiSutaHatter/pseuds/LilGreenMochi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Virgil is feeling rough.</p><p>Patton bakes some cookies.</p><p>They'll all be ok, eventually.</p><p>(Just some soft platonic fluff because I need to calm down about the new episode)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Morality | Patton Sanders, Platonic LAMP, Platonic Moxiety - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i'm okay (trust me)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is my first time writing for the Sanders Sides fandom so I hope y'all enjoy it! </p><p>Virgil is my boy and I love him so much it physically pains me sometimes so I just wanted to write some Soft Content of him and his boys being happy friends</p><p>I also gave him some of my anxiety tics because this is self indulgent and i couldn't stop myself lol points if you can spot them!!</p><p>~ Mochi</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Virgil sits on the kitchen counter of the Mindspace, one knee pulled up to his chest and the other leg dangling off over the cupboards below him. He can feel the cold granite of the countertop against his foot through the thin material of his sock, and his thin, pale fingers tap rhythmically against his raised calf to the beat of the music playing through his headphones. He’s listening to Evanescance, again, because it helps.</p><p>Things have been…tense, for a few days. It’s only been a few days since Thomas met Remus for the first time, and even though the other Sides had been aware of his past with Deceit and the Duke, admitting the truth to Thomas had been difficult. Adding on to that the general distress over the…wedding situation, and the strangely stilted nature of his relationship with Patton recently, and Virgil isn’t feeling great.</p><p>The fingers not currently engaged in replicating the drums in <em>Imaginary </em>are twitching as he shakes his hand, as if trying to rid himself of a cramp in his wrist. He keeps shaking it far longer than would be necessary to do that, though – it’s another tic he’s picked up, a way of ridding himself of excess nervous energy to dispel the panic that sits in his stomach and threatens to crawl its way up his throat. After a few minutes he rolls out the muscles in his wrist and brings his hand up towards his chest, long fingers twisting around the drawstrings of his hoodie, the feeling of the worn fabric against his skin akin to an anchor weighing him down to the real world. Reminding him that he’s here, and he’s ok.</p><p>For now.</p><p>He shakes his head, takes a deep breath. He’s here, he’s ok. The others are ok. Things will be fine.</p><p>He’s trying.</p><p>There’s a cup of coffee sitting next to him on the counter, slowly growing cold. Virgil hadn’t really wanted coffee, but the making of it was therapeutic. The smell was calming. It was the beverage equivalent of his hoodie; warm, comforting, familiar. He thinks he should probably eat something, unsure of the last time he did so. Maybe yesterday? It’s not like he actually needs to eat, but Patton and Logan had agreed that they should get into the habit of eating at certain times to encourage Thomas to have a more regular schedule. It was nice, eating together. Plus, Virgil had found that he liked helping Patton cook.</p><p>As if the thought summons him, Patton rounds the corner into the kitchen, his mouth curving up into a soft smile as he spots the anxious side curled into the corner.</p><p>“Hey kiddo.”</p><p>Virgil’s eyes flicker up momentarily, then back down to the black denim of his jeans. “Hey.”</p><p>Patton stays quiet for a moment, moving gently around the kitchen as he pulls out ingredients for something. Virgil is hesitant as he moves his headphones off of one ear. “What...what are you making?”</p><p>Patton’s beaming smile melts some of the tension in Virgil’s chest, soothing his fears of damage to their friendship. “I felt like baking, so I’m making cookies. Do you want to help?”</p><p>Virgil pauses, then nods. He slides down to stand on the kitchen floor, pulling his sleeves down to cover his hands as much as possible. He leans against the side, watching as Patton begins to mix the dry ingredients together in one bowl. His movements are confident, but slow, gentle – like he’s trying not to frighten Virgil off. It’s a fair enough concern: for the last few days, Virgil has been disappearing to his room any time one of them gets too close, like he’s punishing himself for something by keeping him away from the companionship of others. But he’s trying today, moving around the kitchen to gather the rest of the ingredients for Patton and pre-heat the oven instead of retreating into solitude.</p><p>He really is trying.</p><p>Patton starts to sing to himself, softly at first then louder as Virgil starts to bob his head in time with the song. There’s very little crossover in their musical tastes really, but Patton likes to sing along to Paramore songs on the rare occasion that Virgil hooks his phone up to the speaker so he decides that some Hayley Williams is just what their little baking session needs. Virgil mumbles along with him as Patton starts to belt the chorus, a small smile playing over his face as he watches the more positive side whisk eggs and vanilla extract together with alarming vigour.</p><p>They eventually mix the dry ingredients and the wet ingredients together, Patton laughing as he pours in way too many chocolate chips and Virgil makes no move to stop him. It’s kind of a joke between them, Virgil’s secret sweet tooth. He doesn’t like sweets as much as Patton, but he’ll take a cookie over chips any day.</p><p>Once the cookies are on the baking tray and in the oven, the two of them sit down – Virgil back on the counter, this time with his legs crossed underneath him, and Patton on a chair at the kitchen table. Patton had been excitedly chatting about some wholesome Spongebob memes that he had come across on twitter, but now there is a lull in the conversation and Virgil finds himself looking down at where his hands rest in his lap, fingers twisting together nervously. The skin on the backs of his hands is raw from where he’s been nervously rubbing at them the last few days, and there are flaking bits of dark purple nail varnish on his bitten nails.</p><p>“Patton?”</p><p>“Yeah, kiddo?”</p><p>“Are we…ok?”</p><p>Virgil can hear the relieved smile in Patton’s voice as he responds. “Yeah, Virg. We’re ok, I promise. We’ll always be ok, even if things get a little bumpy some times.”</p><p>Virgil looks up at Patton from behind his bangs, hope making the ever-present weight in his chest feel lighter than it has in days. “Yeah?”</p><p>Patton nods, reaching out one hand for a high five. “Yeah. Promise, kiddo.”</p><p>Virgil leans forward to return the high five and they sit there for a few more minutes, Virgil content to listen with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Patton waxes lyrical about some new cartoon Thomas is watching. The warmth of the oven fills the kitchen, as does the smell of baking, and it isn’t long before the scent draws attention to their little haven.</p><p>“Patton! Please tell me those are cookies I smell!” Roman comes barrelling around the corner and pulls himself to a sudden stop in the doorway, staring at Virgil as if afraid he might disappear if he blinks. Virgil taps two fingers to his temple in a little salute, and Roman’s shoulders seem to relax, dropping tension as though he was unaware he had been holding it. “Nice to see that good old Panic-at-the-everywhere has finally decided to emerge from hiding!”</p><p>Not long ago, Virgil would have flinched away at those words, retreated back into himself and thrown out a harsh insult to drive the others away. Now, though, he smirks a little as he looks at Roman. “I figured you must miss me, Prince Alarming.”</p><p>Roman pouts and folds his arms, throwing himself down into one of the unoccupied chairs next to Patton. “Like a fish misses air!”</p><p>“Technically fish require oxygen much like humans do, they simply filter it through their gills rather than breathing.” Logan’s soothing monotone voice drifts into the kitchen ahead of his body, a book tucked under one arm. “Good evening all. Virgil, it’s good to see you again. I noted that Patton appeared to be baking and determined that it would not be long before we all congregated in the kitchen since the rest of you seem so determined to consume baked goods.”</p><p>Roman rolls his eyes. “Calm down, pocket protector. They’re cookies, not poison.”</p><p>Logan hums noncommittally, sitting in the remaining chair at the table.</p><p>The oven beeps and Patton leaps out of his seat excitedly, hurrying over to the oven and almost pulling out the tray with his bare hand before he remembers that even representations of aspects of a personality can burn themselves, and pulls on a bright pink and spotty oven glove he had been gifted by Roman for their last Secret Santa exchange.</p><p>Roman tries to reach over and steal a cookie straight off of the tray, only to have Patton lightly smack the back of his hand. “They need time to cool before you can eat them! We don’t want you burning yourself, silly goose!”</p><p>Roman sits back, making a huffing sound, but doesn’t protest further as Patton carefully lays the cookies out on a plate in the centre of the table.</p><p>They talk about how things are progressing with Thomas’s latest video, the games he’s playing at the moment, what Roman has been up to in the Imagination, what Logan has been studying, what new recipes Patton wants to try, what new music Virgil has been listening to. They don’t talk about the Others, or the end of Virgil’s last conversation with Thomas. He knows that discussion will come later, but for now it’s just the four of them. The four of them, sitting in the kitchen, eating cookies still warm from the oven.</p><p>Just the four of them, and they’ll be okay.</p><p>Trust me.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>follow me on twitter @LilGreenMochi1 for more Soft Content</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>